


I didn't see beauty until I lost the colours

by Pickl3lily



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, John Doe AU, Multi, Slow Burn Romance, Villains to Heroes, more characters and relationships to be added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-04
Updated: 2016-09-04
Packaged: 2018-07-12 07:32:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7092301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pickl3lily/pseuds/Pickl3lily
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is the John Doe AU that nobody asked for, but after a marathon of watching it, I kept seeing Dominic Purcell's character as Mick and thought I'd get a kick out of it, so here it is. This will not be too close of a copy though. Just the colour-blindness and amnesia mostly. Don’t need to have seen the show to read this – its barely even related. Sort of. Trust me.</p><p>When Mick goes missing for a week, Snart wanted to find him, going as far as to work with Team Flash to find him. Having done so, he quickly realises that Mick Rory is now a very different man. He isn't the only one to notice, either.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: And so it begins

The first thing he felt was pain, dull yet insistent curling around his skull. The first thing he smelled was burning and floral perfume. The first thing he saw, once he was able to force his eyelids apart, was the black and white profile of a man in a winter parka – strange considering he could feel the heat of the sun, bearing down on his, apparently very scarred forearms.

Parka-man had, until now, been alternating between gazing into the distance and glaring insistently at the watch on his wrist; he gave a cursory glance over in his direction, although he apparently hadn’t expected for him to be conscious as he had already moved his gaze back to his watch, before snapping his head up and striding quickly closer. “Mick, thank God. For a second there I thought I’d need to find myself a new partner – I actually called Scarlet in on the favour he owes me. Let’s go before he actually turns up, shall we?” Parka-man gave him a curious look then, inclining his head slightly in askance and he, Mick, apparently, felt like he could simultaneously trust this man with his life, and keep an eye on the silverware. Did he have silverware? He probably should say something though. “Is ‘Scarlet’ medically trained? I think I have retrograde amnesia.”

The man in the parka blinked at him. Then he blinked again and allowed one short bark of laughter, before he regained immediate composure, a small, sly smirk gracing his lips; ‘Mick’ fleetingly wondered if he had previously known why the other man had a scar on his lip – was he there when it happened? How did he know this man anyway? “Good one Mick – I almost bought that for a second, seriously though. Let’s get gone.” He rose from the crouch he was in and turned to leave, pausing after about ten feet, realising that he was walking alone. He turned back, a pinched look on his face. His eyes darted across ‘Mick’s’ form, still on the ground before releasing a put-upon sigh. “Shit.” Mick, (he was starting to get used to considering it to be his name), couldn’t help but agree with the sentiment.


	2. The old rogue

They ended up waiting for ‘Scarlet’ to arrive after all; the man in the parka obstinately refusing to divulge any more information, or even make conversation in the meantime. This was when Mick discovered that ‘Scarlet’ was a thin, lithe man in a red leather suit that really shouldn’t be seen out of the bedroom.

“Hey Snart, I see you found Rory in one piece then. You mind letting me know why I’m here?” ‘Scarlet’ was talking only to the parka-man – Snart, apparently, not even acknowledging Mick at all. He wasn’t too bothered though, he was too busy processing that ‘Scarlet’ had just appeared in the blink of an eye, gusts of wind the only signal of his arrival. Mick decided to stand then, tired of not knowing what was going on, his head was still pounding and this wasn’t getting them anywhere.

“Hey. You must be Scarlet – Parka-man said we were waiting for you. You a doctor? I think I have retrograde amnesia. Do you know me?” Mick wasn’t sure where to start, so he allowed his greetings to cover all of the initial problems, also subtly hinting that he still had no idea who parka-man was, and Snart seemed too farfetched to be a real name. Mick could practically hear the tumble weed rolling in ‘Scarlet’s’ head as he gaped open-mouthed, before blinking deliberately and shaking his head as if to re-orientate himself. “Is – I don’t – Is he for real?” the babbling wasn’t unexpected, but it was slightly irritating, because now he had gone back to ignoring Mick’s presence in favour for talking to the man in the parka. His irritation was short lived though, following a nod from parka-man, they were all suddenly in a white circular room with computers and scientific equipment.

Mick could feel heat across his chest and looked down to see his shirt smoking away, quickly ripping it off of himself and throwing it to the ground; looking up, he caught the gaze of the parka-man, no longer concealing his shock and confusion, before realising a collection of individuals of different ages and ethnicities scattered around the room, all looking equally stunned. “Woah, dude.” The breathy exclamation came from a young man with long hair and a lolly in hand sat by a computer. “I thought for sure your comms were faulty or something, but Heatwave ripping something on fire _away from himself_. That ain’t right.”

 

 

So apparently, he was a criminal. Reformed, apparently. There was news footage of him aiding ‘Scarlet’ – The Flash, a superhero – in a fight that apparently saved the city, followed by a pardon for him, a beautiful woman called Lisa who was also the sister of the man in the parka, who had also received a pardon. He was called Leonard apparently, although every time Mick called him that, Leonard would get a pinched expression and turn away, demanding someone give him a “damned explanation already.” Mick wasn’t sure why his memories were gone, but he knew that despite his actions earlier, he was still entranced by the idea of fire; there was a working theory that now that he could no longer see the colours, some of the beauty was lost to him, but he wasn’t sure how accurate that really could be. It was wiring in the brain that caused pyromania, not the ability to see in colour.

Since his arrival at STAR labs, or so he was informed, he had been spoon-fed this story of his past with multiple contributors, but none of it felt true; he didn’t feel like a criminal. He wanted to help, to be busy, he wanted to be useful. Surely, if he had helped save the city, he couldn’t be a bad guy, not really. He couldn’t be sure. He was tired of being subjected to these stupid tests, and of not seeing in colour. He hated the lack of answers, and the way that the team would encounter people like him – amnesia, colour-blind, branded with a strange symbol – people that could see only each other in colour, just for them to die. They had encountered three others so far, two of them dying of brain aneurysms and the last committing suicide because the experiments had driven him insane. The only bright side was the time he spent helping Team Flash solve crimes involving Meta-humans; Mick wasn’t sure who was the most surprised when he was able to figure out what the ability of the Meta-human was, and how they could best take her down – within mere seconds of looking at the facts. Although working with Team Flash wasn’t all sunshine and puppies. Not even remotely.

“What the hell is wrong with you. Do you realise you could have gotten Barry killed? You almost did!” The petite doctor shouting in his face whilst stitching him up was nothing new. She hated him, that much was clear from the beginning, although hearing what he had done to her, he couldn’t say she was wrong. Mick hated the idea of who he had been previous to the mind-wipe, but he couldn’t do anything to change the past, only strive to gain her forgiveness. Of course, it would probably be better if he could put that into words, but she made him defensive, and he either wouldn’t talk with her around, or would stick to just the facts of the case with occasional attempts to garner her opinion.

“Didn’t mean it, Snow. How was I supposed to know that it would be a trap – I can figure out what the problem is but that doesn’t make me a shrink. Can’t predict – Ah!” His defence was cut abruptly short when she decided to start prodding at his ribs to assess any damage, apparently finding a broken rib on her first attempt. Mick could feel his face screw up against his will, as Caitlin just pressed clinically around the area, before using her stethoscope to auscultate – most likely listen for any kind of bronchial sounds that might indicate blood on the lungs, in case the rib had punctured one. Her eyes met his, and for a moment, it was almost like they weren’t enemies anymore; there was real concern in the eyes before him, and he was just sorry he hadn’t noted the colour when he’d been able – or maybe he had, there was no telling really. He couldn’t remember and from the descriptions he’s heard from the team about the old Mick Rory, he wouldn’t have told anyone about his observations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am still setting it up, and I hope its not falling apart too badly. There needs to be a slow-burn and I can't just have him hunky dory. Also, the bit about auscultation... Let me just put it out there that I'm a student nurse, and sometimes the things I learn have a tendency to creep into my stories. :D


	3. Thats a bombshell we could have done without

Three months. It had been three months since Mick had joined STAR labs, alternating between helping fight emerging Meta-humans, offering advice to the CCPD on some of the weirder cases, and working closely with Caitlin Snow to try and determine what had happened to him.

The first two of these were fairly boring really. Since his return, Mick was able to understand more or less everything without actual explanation – he couldn’t really pinpoint how, but Caitlin surmised that it was probably part of the experiments that had been done on him, wherever he had been before. Honestly, Mick probably would have actually enjoyed the time he spent with Caitlin – she was starting to warm up to him enough that, although they still fell into a routine of her snapping coolly at him, they could now have whole conversations that were civil, and she was becoming friendlier and friendlier with every interaction. Like some kind of bizarre aversion therapy. There was really only one problem and that was –

“What if they put a robot chip in his brain? Made him have some kind of, like, computer brain. That could be why he processes stuff so good now.” Lisa Snart. He could feel that he loved the girl, her and Lenny had explained that they weren’t friends, hastily adding the fact that they were family when his face had fallen. He could feel that it was true – the girl was fascinated with art, and he allowed himself to try to understand it for her sake, although he couldn’t say he approved when she tried to pull an art heist to jog his memory. Regardless, Lisa was like a sister to him, as far as he could tell considering he doesn’t actually seem to have any siblings, but she was always there.

“Well.” Mick corrected automatically, glancing up to find Lisa staring blankly back at him from where she was sucking on one of her stolen lollies from Cisco’s not-so-secret candy stash. “You said ‘so good’ the correct grammatical formulation of the sentence should have been ‘so well’.” The explanation did him no good – Lisa just blinked owlishly at him again before brandishing the lolly towards him, gesticulating wildly as she turned wide eyes on a bemused Caitlin. “See! Mick doesn’t do grammar! He hates grammar and what’s more, he never understood the ‘correct grammatical formulations’. Add to the lack of passion, lack of emotions and well... Definitely a robot.” Her words had become mocking as she quoted him and Mick couldn’t help but feel a wave a hurt flood over him at the realisation that Lisa, his friend, the person he loved as family, clearly had such a low opinion of him. As the Mick she knew, he was nothing – dumb as a rock and probably just as useful. Like this, she thought him to be nothing more than a mechanical man – his brain working at super speed while his emotions lagged behind; why was she even here?

“Well I’m sorry that I’m not as dumb and malleable as I used to be. I didn’t ask for this to happen, did I? What I don’t get is why you’re here! You clearly didn’t respect who I was before, no wonder either – I sound like I was just a mindless drone who hurt people. Innocent people like Caitlin, for no reason. Why would you want that back?! But if me now is that bad, why are you _here_? Nobody is making you stay Lisa – if you hate the new me so much, then just –“ His voice broke then, the raw emotion coming to the surface and he registered the hurt and confusion on Lisa’s face, the concern and sympathy on Caitlin’s before he forced himself to turn away, pulling his gloves on tighter, a nervous habit that he couldn’t shake, and he forced the words out. “Just leave.” He heard the stifled sob accompanying the quick clacking of heels out of the cortex and it was a genuine struggle to not whirl around, to chase her down and apologise but he needed this. He needed space.

“Why did you do that?” Caitlin’s voice was low and uncertain; she sounded like she was right behind him now, but he couldn’t bring himself to face her. Not now that he had ruined everything. This was pointless. “I’m not him. She wants me to be the guy I was, but I’m not him. All of you want me to go back to being the dumb guy you can manipulate, but I’m not. Sorry.” He meant to leave then, to say something to her that would undo all of the progress he had made these three months, but before he could, he felt a small hand place itself timidly of his shoulder. It was only a fleeting touch, there and gone again in a second, but somehow it was enough to silence him long enough for her to put in her two cents. “They love you. You were their family in a way – the Snarts aren’t good at showing it, not with their dad, with their personal tragedy. They want their family, but I don’t think it matters how dumb or smart you are. They just want to know that you love them like they love you.” She withdrew from his space, he could hear the clicked of her heels as she followed Lisa’s path out of the cortex. Before she reached the doorway however, the clicking stopped. “And just so you know.” Her voice was more sure as she spoke, the words slightly braced with defensiveness – to brace herself in case of rejection. “The old Mick Rory _was_ a bastard. But only most of the time. He hurt me – my pride, my confidence and my wrists from cables tied too tight. But he changed.”

Mick found himself turning to look at her then, brow furrowed and eyes questioning, but Caitlin ignored him in favour of finishing what she was clearly steeling herself up for. “He changed when he travelled through time to save the world - regardless of his initial reasoning. He changed when he continued to do the right thing, even when he thought Leonard had died, not realising that Snart had made Barry create him a time remnant to die in his place. He changed when he tried to move on and go back to a life of crime but wouldn’t let any new partners hurt or kill.”

Their eyes met and she took a deep breath that he found himself echoing. “Most of all, he changed four months ago, when he got kidnapped saving me from some cult members of the ‘Phoenix Group’. I wasn’t so cold to you because of what you did to me Mick – I was so cold to you, because you were becoming a good man anyway, without losing who you were and... and the reason that your life was torn away from you – it was because of me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't even see that plot twist coming until I typed it. Oh this is fun. :D


	4. Truth hurts.

Caitlin was ignoring him. _Caitlin_ was ignoring _him_. Like that was fair after the massive bombshell she had dropped. She _knew_ , this whole time – every time he’d been asking ‘why him’? She had been answering “I have no idea.” The thought of him trusting her so completely this whole time when she had known what she had – it made him see red. Metaphorically speaking, at least; in reality his vision was as black and white as ever – which made things as simple as shopping somewhat complex, especially when buying clothes with Lisa.

Mick was so absorbed in his anger at the revelation of Caitlin’s knowledge, that he didn’t even register the way he tightened his grip on the shard of glass he had been clearing up. He didn’t process the way it bit into his skin, blood pooling in his palm, trickling down his trousers and onto the ground.

“Oh my God!” As if summoned by his thoughts, Caitlin was there, flying across the room and speaking to him for the first time since her confession a week ago. “Mick! What the hell are you doing? Are you okay? Can you feel that? It’s important you be honest – we need to figure out what those people did to you.” Until that point, Mick had been compliant, allowing her to guide him towards the infirmary, barely registering anything but her words. He had been so, _pathetically_ happy that she was talking to him, even if it was to lecture him, but at her questioning, he felt that anger returning and dug his heels in. They had stopped in the middle of the cortex, the entire team had gotten to their feet and stared worriedly at the pair as they’d made their way through the room, but Mick hadn’t noticed them. He still hadn’t registered their presence when he finally allowed himself to let loose some of his anger.

“Those people? You mean The Phoenix group, right? The ones that only took me because I was helping you? Because that’s what you said, right? The only reason I got taken in the first place, was because I stopped them taking _you!_ You said I fought for you – I get that I did bad things to you before, but then I saved you! I saved you and you let them take me – why didn’t you fight for me, Cait?!” He deflated, panting harshly, realising that his anger had gone, had undergone a transformation that left only desperate sorrow in its wake. “Why did you let them take me?” It was pathetic. It was pathetic at how softly he asked the question. It was pathetic that as he did so, he was betraying his words by reaching out with his uninjured hand to wipe away the tears tracking down her cheeks. It was pathetic the way he jumped in front of her the second that he heard the mechanical whirring of the cold gun charging up to be fired.

“You knew? The whole time I was coming to STAR labs, looking for Mick - _for months!_ – you could have told me, helped us find him sooner?” Snart’s voice was low and dangerous, the coolness in his tone not having been directed at anyone on Team Flash for months, was enough to set everyone on edge, even without the cold gun being pointed at Caitlin. Lisa stood at her brother’s side, her glare as icy as her brother’s as she folded her arms furiously across her chest. Cisco, of course, chose to try and diffuse the situation, advocating for his best friend. “Guys, come on! This is Caitlin. The whole time you came to us looking for Mick ,she gave 110% - she was here before the sun came up and didn’t leave until one of us dragged her away. She hated Mick, but she still busted her ass looking for him. Would she have done that if she was responsible for him being taken? I’m sure there’s just been some kind of confusion here. Right, Cait?”

Cisco broke off, looking back at his friend,still shielded by Mick, tears still silently making their way down her cheeks. “No.” Was the hushed response, causing Cisco to screw up his face in confusion, gesturing absently with his hands in mid-air, trying to understand what that could possibly mean, besides the obvious. “’No’? What do you mean ‘No’? Caitlin – You realise you’re not helping your case, right?” His tone was beseeching, as he silently begged his friend to recognise the magnitude of the situation and understand what her words sounded like.

“No, Cisco. It’s not confusion – everything Mick said is true. When he got kidnapped, it was because of me. But I didn’t want that to happen, I swear!” Her voice, timid at first, had grown louder as she turned to solely address Mick. “I tried so hard to get you back - I knew it was my fault and my responsibility to get you back. You wanted to meet with me – you said it was something you learned on the Waverider, something about Barry’s future. You were late and this group with Phoenix insignias attacked me. At first I thought you’d set me up, but then you came in, heat gun blazing. They hit you from behind and you dropped your gun.” Her voice was shaky now, the tears still coming, but threatening to become full sobs as she finally admitted the truth of his abduction.

“I picked it up and pointed it at them – you’d already killed most of them, I don’t think they wanted to risk anymore, so they just… They started dragging you away. I – Your gun looks so easy. Just a trigger right? But it’s not. I still don’t understand that _stupid_ safety measure! I wasn’t just pointing your gun at them when I picked it up – I was pulling the trigger! I was trying to kill them, but it wouldn’t work. It was dumb luck that they didn't realise that I couldn't use it, and just took me anyway. But I didn’t mean to let them take you. We weren’t friends, but you wasn’t my enemy anymore Mick. I _promise_ , I did try to help you. But I guess there’s a reason some of us are just the sidekicks.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is this chapter a bit shit? Yes. But this needed to happen! The truth needed to be revealed and I needed some set up for Snart drama. The most entertaining drama that there is. And in this fic, in case it wasn't obvious, LoT has happened, but Len is very much alive thanks to Barry carrying him so fast that he created a time remnant for both of them, and then depositing Len's remnant where he needed to be. Complete nonsense - but this is my world and I regret nothing!


	5. Time after time

** Chapter 5: **

“No.” To say that it was a surprise when Lisa Snart was the first to break the awkward silence in the cortex, would be an understatement. “You’re not a sidekick just because you can’t shoot a gun Caitlin – there’s a reason we modified our guns; we didn’t want anyone but us using them and you weren’t to know that. Am I seriously pissed off that you’ve been lying by omission for months? Hell yes, I am. But that’s in the past and you did try – and Cisco’s right. Since Mick was taken you’ve hardly stopped; at first you worked to get him back and now you hardly stop, trying to figure out what they did to him. You may be the Flash’s sidekick, but that doesn’t mean you can’t be a hero in your own right.”

Noticing the soft looks that she was receiving from Team Flash, she folded her arms across her chest, recapturing her trademark pout as she lathered her words with a sexy tone that, as always, held the low undertone of promised danger. “But if you ever keep something that big from me again – you won’t even have the chance to regret it.” Her flouncing from the cortex was upstaged by the claxon blaring, alerting the team to a new Meta incursion.

 

 

Later, with everyone patched up from the fight, Caitlin had decided to go home and at least try to get some sleep on before they were called in for a new Meta. The walk to her car was an unusually tense one, fear and paranoia present with every step she took across the parking lot. As Caitlin finally approached and unlocked her car, a shiver ran across her spine and she whipped around, key between her knuckles ready to be used as a makeshift weapon on a potential assailant. Turning however, she was met with the scent of flowers as a mist sprayed lightly over her face, causing darkness to creep across her vision and she couldn’t help but be offended as she lost consciousness – the last sensation before succumbing to the darkness had been the painful thud of her head hitting the concrete. They hadn’t even softened her fall. Rude.

The way her captor roused her was also rude and just as painful as the kidnapping; she woke to the back of a big meaty hand striking its way across her face and she felt her lip split as it was smacked harshly against her teeth. She blinked blearily, her eyes registering her surrounding in a blur. She was in the warehouse district – that much was obvious. Pictures of Mick taped along the surface of whiteboards, corkboards, the metal walls and several screens were broadcasting a slideshow of him around the city, wearing different outfits each time. Illegible notes were attached to each picture and string connected them in an unrecognisable pattern.

Her captor had obviously been watching Mick for a considerable time, the earliest picture seeming to be from a few days after his memory-wiped return. Eyes adjusting further, she noticed that the pictures weren’t organised by date, but grouped into his association with the team members, a big number written and circled above each grouping. The number above hers was only 3 numbers higher than both of the Snart’s and the greatest value written down. They must have determined that she was the person he interacted with most and presumed that this meant he would care if he took her.

Caitlin couldn’t help the wry chuckle that came at considering that a few days ago, before he knew the truth, he probably would. “Something amusing Snow?” The voice was raspy and mechanical – obviously disguised so she couldn’t identify him. She looked up to see a piggy mask staring back at her and suppressed a shudder at the cold gaze behind the eye holes. She forced herself to stare into those lifeless orbs as she defiantly replied, “Just that your Intel is out of date. Mick hates me again and if its him you want to rescue me, you’re going to be sorely disappointed.”

She tried not to struggle when the hand secured itself around her throat in anger, she knew that it would only make it worse, and she just prayed that Barry would figure out where she was soon. And as her foot involuntarily jerked beneath her, it hit against the chair leg and the package tied to it. Why did she always end up the one strapped to a bomb?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, its been ages and then I post something so short and crappy, but I'm back on placement and everything is piling up so I've just been doing Oneshots because then I don't have to read back and remember what I've done for this... so sorry. Hopefully, I'll have more to post when my keyboard is fixed. Until then, this filler chapter will have to suffice.


End file.
